I am not my body. I think that is something that I need to understand. I have always been so obsessed with what my body look like. So obsessed that when I look in the mirror it’s like I’m at a carnival looking in those funny mirrors. When I feel fat I feel trapped. It’s like I can’t enjoy what I do if I don’t feel like I have my body under control. My brain needs to have my body under control. How does one change that? Because there must be more to life than a smookin body? It can’t be the purpose of life. The meaning? What do you do if you look back at your life and see a nice body but lack of experiences. Lack of life?
I know that there is a mind body connection, and they have to some what sync. I need to listen to my body in order for my brain to feel good. But when my brain controls my body, and my body is forced to listen to my brain, something happens. The brain is such a powerful tool. You can use it wise or you can use it to destroy your life and others with it. We know how propaganda works. How you can be tricked into doing things you never once could imagine you would do. The brain controls everything, and if I’m not aware of that I do myself no good.
I let my brain control my body, I punish myself if I eat shit, if I miss a workout. My brain constantly compares my body to others and telling me “they are more beautiful that you’ll ever get”. And my body is doing everything it can to please my brain, but my brain will never be pleased. If I don’t take control of it. My brain is nothing without my body. It’s like that insecure bully who takes that weak person and turns her into her bitch. But once that weak person realise what the bully is making her do and tell the bully to shut the fuck up and leave her alone, the bully has no one. Hopefully the bully then understand that you’ll get nowhere in this world by being a bully. And understand how good it feels to be kind.
I’m getting my body to tell my brain to shut the fuck up now. Because I don’t want to live a life where I don’t enjoy living because my brain keeps comparing me with others and telling me that I have to starve and work out every second in order to get permission to life. And then I’m too tired to live anyway. I don’t want to be bullies through life.
The bottom line is that I need to start eat with my body, not my brain. I know what my body needs. And I know that I have to stop listening to my brain when it tells me I’m not good enough. I’m not my body. I’m not my brain. I’m the one trying to balance those two. The consciousness if you may. But most of the time I live through my brain, and that’s when I allow stress and doubt to dominate the way I live. That’s not who I want to be, and how I want to live. I want to be free, happy, and alive. And full of love. Love for myself and through me, love for others.